Something Is Coming Down Like Rain
by Min Daae
Summary: At seventeen Brian Moser killed a man by drowning him in a sink full of water. Rating for murder and abstract discussion of a penis.


At seventeen Brian Moser killed a man by drowning him in a sink full of water.

He had been thinking about it for a while, killing someone. What it would be like. How he would do it. How he would keep from getting caught – that was particularly important, in practical terms.

Today he was loitering in the bathroom, watching the security camera, figuring out where it could see and where it couldn't. If he lingered by the back sink, he was fairly certain he wasn't in the view of the camera lens.

Brian tilted his head and watched the door. It was a quiet time of day, and he didn't really expect company, but if it came…he had his own ideas for how to spend the afternoon. He'd been hot and uncomfortable in his own skin for weeks, and he knew that feeling.

He hadn't been in custody very long after his mother's death before a foster family had adopted him. The Penns had been an ordinary family; a mother, a father, and one daughter three years older than he was. And their dog.

Brian hadn't done too well with the dog.

He heard someone coming along the hallway and looked up. It was one of the older inmates, taller than him, and maybe a couple pounds heavier. He tensed, and then forced himself to relax.

It wouldn't be that much of a problem to take on a larger opponent, but the itch wasn't that urgent yet, and he would sooner have more time to think and plan and anticipate. Not that he had any specific aim, not just yet.

The inmate – Brian thought he remembered him from one of the _activity sessions _as Frank – glanced at him as he headed for a urinal, already unzipping his pants. "Looking for something in here?" He grunted, and Brian smiled a little.

So Frank thought he was clever.

"It's quiet," he said, simply, not taking his eyes off the older boy as he planted his feet and aimed his dick. "I like that."

Frank seemed uncomfortable with his watching eyes, and twitched, his lip curling back. "What are you, some kind of fag? Quit staring."

Brian laughed. He'd heard that one before. Somehow people always seemed to think it was incredibly clever anyways. Frank apparently didn't like people laughing in his presence, because he stiffened his shoulders and turned on Brian, pants still hanging open. "You want something to stare at? Stare at this." The older boy flipped him off, and Brian stayed right where he was and just smiled.

He knew his smile unnerved people. Lily Penn had told her mother several times that he knew of that his smile was "weird." And that was before their German Shepherd had vanished. And Lily had been pretty and female, both reasons to put some effort into proper imitation. Frank was neither, even if he was better at pretending now.

"Impressive," Brian murmured, scuffing one foot along the linoleum. He nodded downward. "Your dick's hanging out. It's not particularly precious to look at."

Frank started forward, and then stopped, glancing up at the security camera that Brian was quite certain now couldn't see them. He leaned forward instead and hissed, "I could beat the fucking pulp out of you, asshole. Shut your smart mouth."

Brian felt his smile widen. He could feel his heart thudding a little faster with anticipation. "And if I don't feel like it?"

Frank's hand snapped out in a fist, and Brian grabbed his wrist, stopping the blow before it came close to touching. Frank looked startled, but he pushed forward instead of pulling away. Brian twisted down and sideways, and the older boy yelped. Brian's heart thumped harder and he could feel his grin stretching his face.

"What the hell? Let go of me-"

"No." Brian glanced at the sinks. It wasn't quite what he had thought of, but-

The surge of strength startled him as Frank surged forward, pressing him back against the wall. "You little fucker," Frank snarled. "You think you can fight me?"

Brian's arm lashed out blindly and hit the older boy's windpipe. Frank choked, and Brian took the moment of weakness to throw the boy into the furthest sink, grab the back of his neck, and shove down as he turned on the faucet with the other hand.

It took Frank five stunned seconds to recover from the impact of his head with the porcelain, and that was enough time for the sink to fill halfway. Brian pushed down harder as he started to struggle, bubbles bursting up to the surface, arms flailing wildly but blindly. He locked his jaw and bore down, one hand on the back of his neck and the other fisted in his hair as he forced Frank's face to the bottom of the sink.

More bubbles, more thrashing. Brian could feel all the sound fade out but the frantic noises from underwater and the thud of his own heart. He remembered the dog. He'd stabbed it to death. It had been harder than he'd expected, all fur and fangs and noise.

It hadn't been as good as this. Not for the way it made him feel. (_Feel, _what a novelty.)

Frank's struggles were slowing, and the sink was overflowing, splashing on Brian's legs as arms began to flap ineffectually, without force.

He waited until even that subsided, then a little longer, before turning off the water.

Then he stepped back.

He had just killed a man. For the first time, though he'd thought about it for years.

He really didn't feel all that different. No great change.

The itch was gone, though.

Brian glanced up at the security camera that had seen none of this, and smiled at it before edging carefully out.

As far as anyone would know, he had never been in that room.

He hummed as he strolled back down the hallway, nothing in particular, just because he could, and that seemed to him to be as good a reason as any.


End file.
